


Lesson One: Your Supersoldier Might Not Be Super Smart

by LoBoat



Series: Steve Roger's Guide to Dating a Supersoldier [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bucky's an idiot, Captain America Bucky Barnes, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Receptionist Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:46:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23991019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoBoat/pseuds/LoBoat
Summary: Steve's the cute receptionist at Stark Tower, Bucky's the idiot behind the Captain America mantle. Tony's a good bro.Alternatively, the three months that Bucky spent breaking his arm to have an excuse to see Steve.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Steve Roger's Guide to Dating a Supersoldier [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1729963
Comments: 7
Kudos: 230





	Lesson One: Your Supersoldier Might Not Be Super Smart

**Author's Note:**

> This work was betad by the wonderful GreyishBlue.

Steve Rogers is by no means special, he’s hardly ordinary on most days. He was born three months early and his parents used to remark that he wouldn’t have survived if it wasn’t for pure stubbornness. He’s rather short for his age (5’4” and a half -  _ yes the half matters _ ), not even a hundred pounds soaking wet, and he can barely make it to work without needing to stop for an inhaler break while he switches subway tracks. He’s got a litany of medical issues.

He’s the internal receptionist for Stark Industries and has been ever since he graduated from high school. His days consist of sketching at his desk, answering phone calls, directing those that make it past security to the correct floors, and moonlighting as Pepper Potts’ personal assistant when her real one, Darcy, is busy. Steve considers himself lucky he doesn’t have to work at the welcome desk on the ground floor; all the pedestrian horror stories Sharon tells him are enough to turn him away. 

He’s halfway through a sketch of the plant that sits on the floor by the elevators when a stack of papers two inches thick land on the desk in front of him. He startles slightly, glances up from his drawing to see Pepper standing in front of him looking more flustered than she had when he saw her before her morning meeting. 

“Steve, Darcy’s out with the flu and I just got a laundry list of companies seeking reparations from the incident in Times Square last month. The board wants these papers signed by the end of the day and there’s no way that I’ll be able to get them to Tony in time now. Could you take them to his lab and get him to sign them? The red tabs are signatures and the green are initials. Thank you Steve, I don’t know what I’d do without you!”

Steve has barely any time to take hold of the pen she thrusts in his direction before Pepper’s walking away, another pack of papers twice the size of the one in front of him in her grasp. He sighs and takes a moment to glance through the stack, finding little of interest, and figures that at least a trip to Tony’s lab will at least kill enough time for him to take lunch after. 

Locking his computer, Steve stands with the papers in hand already heading for the separate elevator that will take him past the twelve unused floors that separate R&D from the residential floors. He swipes his ID badge and enters his birthdate into the keypad, ducking into the elevator when the doors open. He’s alone - a rare treat considering the amount of people in the tower on any given day - and informs JARVIS of his destination, grateful that for once he doesn’t have to inhale the toxic perfume cloud of his coworkers. 

Steve’s visited Tony’s lab twice before, both on errands from Pepper, and both times he’s had to override the music blasting through the room before he even attempts conversation with the man. Today however, the floor is silent when Steve reaches it. He’s half worried that Tony isn’t going to be there until he notices the man bent over something at a table in the middle of the room.

“Mr. Stark, I’m sorry to bother you but Ms. Potts needs these papers signed before noon and wanted me to deliver them to you-” Steve’s sentence dies in his throat when Tony turns to face him and reveals what he’d been tinkering with. Sitting there, chest bared to the world was James Buchanan Barnes, acting Captain America and former Winter Soldier. The plating of his metal arm is opened revealing a multitude of circuits and wires each more confusing than the last. He was staring at Steve, a neutrally cold expression on his face as he assessed the small receptionist. 

“Stark, I didn’t know you hired children, aren’t there laws about that nowadays?” Bucky’s voice is quiet, a deep drawl that hinted at the Brooklyn accent he was supposed to have had back in the day. 

“I didn’t know that Captain America was actually hipster Jesus.” Steve’s retort burst from his lips before he was even aware he was saying it, frustration bubbling in his gut at the supersoldier’s assessment of him. He saw a whisper of a grin pass over James’ face before it settled back into the same neutral expression he was always seen wearing. 

“Good one kid,” Tony snorted, setting the small screwdriver he’d been using down. “Bring me those papers and I’ll sign ‘em. I don’t suppose Pep sent a pen with you?”

“She did,” Steve ignored James for the most part as he sat the papers down on the clean part of the table and pointed at the appropriate places Tony needed to sign. He could feel James’ gaze on him but he dutifully kept his eyes on the daunting pile of forms. Tony made quick work of them however and Steve was soon ducking out of the lab with a final “Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

He dropped the papers off with Pepper before heading back to his desk, eager to check his email one last time before he clocked out for lunch. He was glad to see he only had one email from Debbie in Accounting - just the department’s supply order for the upcoming week. He sent her a quick confirmation and was about to clock out when his phone rang.

“You’ve reached Steve Rogers in reception, how may I help you?” Steve asked filing away papers without bothering to check the caller ID.

“Hey Rogers, do you think you have a second to help me out?” Tony’s voice greeted him through the receiver. “I’m trying to fix a circuit board on robo cop’s arm here and can’t get to the release switch to get it out. Do you think you can give it a go? Your hands should be small enough to reach it.” 

“I’m a receptionist Mr. Stark, not an engineer. I hardly think I’m qualified enough to be messing with a piece of technology like that.” Steve was a little baffled that Tony Stark was calling him of all people with this, surely there were plenty of engineers in R&D with hands small enough to fit inside Captain America’s prosthetic arm. 

“It’ll only take a minute I swear, just flip a switch and we’ll be out of your hair.” Steve knew that Tony was persuasive when he needed to be, but he was determined to stand his ground this time. As if sensing his refusal, Tony barrelled on offering Steve a hefty Christmas bonus before dissolving into threats of not leaving the receptionist alone until he agreed.

“Alright, you win. I’ll be there in a few minutes,” Steve huffed eyeing the kitchen longingly where he knew his tupperware of pasta salad would be waiting for him. He hung up the phone before he gave himself any time to change his mind and rose from his chair, headed once more for the private elevator. 

“Would you like direct travel to Sir’s lab, Mr. Rogers?” JARVIS’ smooth voice echoed from the speakers nestled in the ceiling and Steve gave his confirmation before leaning wearily against the metal railing. It was hardly lunchtime and Steve was already eager to return home to his cactus and trashy reality TV.

Tony and James were in the same position that they’d been in when Steve left, only the former looked far more annoyed than he had earlier. Up close Steve could see the beginnings of a five o’clock shadow creeping up on James’ jaw, and he could smell the faint scent of cologne wafting off of the supersoldier. Tony thrust the screwdriver in the arm’s general direction pointing out the busted board that needed to be released. True to what he’d said, the board was nestled behind a series of important looking wires, the switch buried behind a casing that looked almost impossible to reach. 

“All you gotta do is reach in there, flip that switch and pull out the circuit board. It should come easily and there shouldn’t be any wires attached to it.” Steve nodded absently, his eyes trained on the switch he was after as he edged closer.

“You can get closer doll, I don’t bite,” James’ voice startled Steve, who’d nearly forgotten he was even there while Tony was explaining what he needed done. “Unless you want me to.” 

“I want you to be quiet before I end up pulling out the wrong board and breaking your arm.” Steve’s retort was punctuated with a sharp glare as he stepped closer to the supersoldier nonetheless. He was close enough that his knees bumped into the outer part of James’ thigh and Steve realized he’d have to lean  _ over  _ his lap in order to reach the switch on the inside of his bicep. Steve could hear James’ breathing, even with his bad ear turned toward the man. When he glanced up from the mess of wires he was surprised to see James watching him intently. 

The switch was surprisingly easy for Steve to reach once he got past the whole leaning part, and he dropped it into Tony’s waiting hand immediately. A new circuit board was pressed into Steve’s fingers and he realized that protesting would be futile and got to work installing it, following Tony’s instructions to a tee. 

Over the course of a few weeks Steve found himself in similar situations as that first time, bent over James’ ( _ who now insisted Steve call him Bucky _ ) arm either installing or removing parts and pieces that “Tony couldn’t reach.” In that time Steve had gotten skilled at ignoring the pleased looks that Tony and Bucky would send each other over his head as he worked, and he found that it was easy to return the banter and conversation that was sent his way. He learned that Bucky was more of a little shit than Steve had originally thought, and that Tony was far more of a child than the media made him out to be. He’d even begun to field the requests from Bucky that Steve join him for dinner one night or for Bucky to take Steve to his favorite spot in Brooklyn. 

The flirting was pretty harmless, and Bucky seemed to get a kick out of the crimson blush that would rush to Steve’s cheeks when the brunette made a shameless pass at him. Steve would always turn him down however, assuming that Bucky was joking about it anyway and not wanting to embarrass himself in front of two of the most influential men in Manhattan. 

It all came to a head one morning in November when Tony called Steve up to the lab to help install a new finger joint for Bucky. Steve had remarked that he’d give Bucky a finger alright but came nonetheless. He’d woken up that morning with a pounding headache on top of the head cold he’d developed. The last thing he felt like doing was fiddling with a tiny part to Bucky’s arm under the bright light of Tony’s lab, but he’d already agreed to go, and he was nothing if not a man of his word. He was burying a sniffle into the sleeve of his hoodie when the elevator deposited him into the lab, drawing Bucky’s attention immediately. 

“Hey Stevie, how was your weekend? Did you watch that show I told you about?” Bucky had been raving about a show on Netflix the last time Steve had seen him and all but gave Steve his Netflix password for Steve to watch it himself. 

“Kind of, I slept in a lot this weekend. Where’s the wire thingy?” He was already regretting agreeing to come and Tony had yet to start babbling in his ear. 

“You okay Rogers? You don’t look too good there.” Tony’s voice startled Steve into a coughing fit that left him wheezing for breath at the end of it. Bucky’s expression had morphed from the pleasant neutrality he wore around Steve to one of concern. 

“Fine, just got a cold, it makes my asthma go crazy sometimes.” He shrugged off their concern, approaching the familiar work table and eyeing Bucky’s detached middle finger warily. 

“Why are you at work when you’re sick doll? Surely they can handle a few days without a receptionist.” Bucky’s tone bordered on fond worry and it brought a flush to Steve’s otherwise sallow complexion. 

“Because I’m fine, Bucky,” he insisted, casually trying to angle his body away from the brightest lights in the workroom. 

“Hardly Rogers, go home and get better, I’ll take care of Cap here and pull one of the interns for reception.” Tony scoffed, edging into Steve’s peripheral, a small mechanical finger joint in his hands. 

“What happened to needing my ‘delicately small fingers?’ That’s the whole reason you even called me today.” Steve raised an eyebrow, wincing slightly at the pain that shot through his head at the movement. He caught the shifty look that Tony and Bucky shared, causing frustration to surge underneath his skin. “What? What’s going on Bucky? I humored you both throughout all this, considered that there were a few times where small hands come in handy, but even you have to admit some of them were ridiculous. The  _ Hulk  _ could’ve retrieved those wires last week. If you’re just calling me down here to make fun of me or something, stop cause I’m not laughing.” 

By the end of his little rant Steve’s left wheezing out a few pathetic coughs, his lungs seizing painfully in his chest and he weakly fumbles at his pocket in search of his inhaler. He can vaguely hear Bucky cursing under his breath then gentle hands nudging him into the chair that Bucky previously occupied. Steve waves off any further attempt to help and uncaps his inhaler, taking a few steadying breaths before pulling away to glare at the two men hovering unhelpfully over him. 

“Jigs up Cap, you gotta tell him,” Tony sets a bottle of water down in front of Steve before snapping the new joint onto Bucky’s finger and assembling it back onto the arm. Bucky and Steve are silent, waiting for one to break first as Tony retreats to the elevator with a quiet command to take him to the penthouse. 

“Steve, are you alright?” He’s hovering hesitantly over Steve, almost as if he’s repressing the urge to mother hen Steve. Steve gives a silent nod, leaning back in the chair enough to glare up at Bucky.

“I’m fine, but I want an explanation.” 

“Okay, yeah. An explanation..” Bucky settles on the edge of the table, looking a lot more human than he ever did in the time Steve’s spent with him. “I’ve been Captain America for three years, the Winter Soldier for longer before that. I don’t have many memories of the time before, and I lack certain social skills as the media has helpfully pointed out. I uh, that first day we met when you were gettin’ Stark to sign those papers I was real interested in you and I may have kept breakin’ things on the arm so I’d have an excuse to see you again. I thought that maybe I’d work up the courage to ask you out to dinner or something.” Bucky looks sheepish by the end of the explanation, fiddling idly with a screwdriver as he gives Steve time to think through what he’d said. 

“So you kept breaking your arm, to see me?” Steve waited for Bucky to nod before continuing. “You really are an idiot aren’t you. World class tactician and that was the best you could do? You should’ve just asked.”   
  


“You would’ve said yes?” Bucky’s got a hopeful gleam in his eye despite the frown settling on his lips, and Steve heaves a sigh, rising to his feet. Before Bucky could say anything else, Steve raises on his tip toes and connects their lips in a messy kiss, his hands tugging Bucky closer to him by the shoulder. Bucky lets out a startled grunt but leans into the kiss, his own hands settling on Steve’s hips, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on his skin where his sweater had risen up. 

“You’re such a jerk,” Steve sighs when they pull away, Bucky pressing gentle kisses to Steve’s cheek and temple. 

“And you’re a little punk. Now I believe Stark is getting you the rest of the week off, how about you come upstairs with me and I’ll make you something to eat and we can relax and watch a movie?”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on my tumblr 


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